The Last Confession
by Herr Fritz
Summary: -or- Five times Barrel tried to tell 'I love you' to Lockstock, and One time Lockstock understood. Features a creepy, clueless Barrel, and a oblivious Lockstock.
1. The First Time

The Last Confession  
-or-  
Five times Barrel tried to tell 'I love you' to Lockstock, and One time Lockstock understood.

**/-/**

I don't know what Lockstock looks like to you, but to me, Barrel will always be the guy in this production:

_youtube watch?v=z Vt1NN4IDr0 & feature= related_

**/-/**

The First Time

It was Tuesday night. The kind of night that not much happened on—the kind of night police officers loved the best. All the Cops in the city were gathered- even some of Mr. Cladwell's private guards had shirked their duties and found a place in the small hall.

The sole officer to find anything wrong with such relaxation was Officer Lockstock: the narrator and chief of police. Already he had paced around the small hall half a dozen times, nibbled through three donuts, and had gone over the timetable records. He finally took his station at the front of the room, clearing his throat loudly.

"I need someone to pick up the evening patrol with me. Any takers?"

The office space fell quiet as all the cops averted their gazes. Some looked out the window at the lovely brick wall beyond, some grew further involved in the round of poker being played, and some further began a round of coughing. Only one man answered the call of duty.

"I'll do it!"

Half the cops in the room groaned under their breaths, half grinned in relief.

"Trust the suck-up to make the rest of us look bad," one particularly bulky cop whispered to his table-mate. The other kicked the first's leg.

"Are you kidding? Barrel's anything but a suck-up…he's too clueless to even _know_ how to be the teacher's pet. Nah, take a look at his face. If you can get past the creepy expression, you can see it clear as day. Barrel's in _love_."

The first officer snorted into his hand. "You've got to be shitting me!"

"He's got to be shitting you about _what_, sir?"

The cop looked up to see Lockstock towering over him. Sending a dirty glare to his partner, he sputtered a moment before answering.

"Um…Barrel does so many rounds…er…I just can't believe how dedicated he is to the town."

The answer seemed to pacify Lockstock, even earning a look of admiration over to Barrel, still eerily grinning.

"That's the kind of man I'm looking for, mister. That dedication is what makes me proud to call Barrel a fellow policeman." If anything, that declaration caused Barrel's face to flare up in a blush—a blush Lockstock was completely unaware of. "Now come on, Mr. Barrel. I'm anxious to meet the streets."

"Yes, sir!" Barrel only took another moment to grab his truncheon, then was out the door with Lockstock. The two went down a few major roads before cutting into an alley, emerging close to Mr. Graffin's amenity.

"So…not paying Ms. Pennywise a visit, then?" Barrel leaned against a lightpost, trying to make small talk. He would have been the picture of contentment, if it weren't for his shifting eyes. Rather than answer the question, Lockstock gazed out at the town.

"I appreciate you taking the beat with me, Mr. Barrel. I know these are usually the dead hours, but you never know around amenity number sixteen."

"It's okay, Officer Lockstock. I love doing any beat, as long as it's with you."

"Why thank you, Barrel."

"In fact, I… I love _you_!"

The streets were silent, except for the _drip-drip-drip _of a leaky amenity. Finally Lockstock turned around, a rare soft smile on his face.

"Thanks, Barrel. I think it's important for policemen to care about each other as much as they care about the city. You work so much harder to protect what you love."

He strode over to Barrel and slapped his back. "Come on, let's get to Pennywise's hutch. You're right, we owe her a visit." He started ahead, leaving behind Barrel, vague as ever. The junior officer gazed after Lockstock, a goofy smile spreading on his face.

"Well…maybe next time…." he mumbled before following. There would always be another day to tell Lockstock.

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**So much for first time being the charm! I love it when people put my stories in their favorites or story alert them…but I love it even more when people review! Please let me know how I'm doing! **


	2. The Second Time

The Second Time

Slightly drunk.

"That's how Lockstock would describe himself. If Mr. Barrel could describe his superior, he'd choose something more along the lines of _smashed beyond belief._ Still, Lockstock seemed to enjoy taking a night off, and Barrel would gladly bear through a million hangovers to see Lockstock with the content expression he had now.

"Cheatin' Paul! Another round for my good man here!"

Paul flashed a gap-toothed smile, slamming down a silty brown liquid before the junior officer.

"Thank God for the fact the water shortage doesn't affect our alcohol storage," Barrel chuckled, holding his drink up to the light. "1985. Good year. _Long_ before the droughts."

"Amen to that!" to emphasize his delight, Lockstock downed his whole glass. It was two hours, and at least triple that many drinks later that the officer finally spoke again.

"I'd love to get rid of that Old Man Strong once and for all!" Lockstock's voice was even more slurred than it was at the beginning of the night, courtesy of the many empty glasses in front of him. Barrel only shook his head.

"You're too hard on yourself. You need to have a goal you can _actually_ reach. Old Man Strong…he's tougher than most folk. I'll bet he wouldn't even scream down the path to Urinetown!"

"I'll suppose _you_ have a more obtainable goal?" Lockstock asked pointedly. Barrel's face paled, flushed, then firmed in resolution.

"I do! I'd love to… love _you_! I wouldn't even need Old Man Strong to be the icing on the cake!"

If not classy, Barrel thought his confession was pretty quiet. This belief was proved quite wrong when the bartender gave a slow, mocking clap. Barrel gave him a glare, only to earn a withering look. Turning his attention back to the other officer, Barrel prepared himself for any reaction.

What he didn't prepare himself for, however, was for Lockstock to chuckle.

"You've got to stop drinking when you feel a buzz. You stop making sense after a few brews!"

"Yeah, that came out a bit glib. Sure thing, Lockstock!" Barrel laughed as well, but looked down at his drink. It remained untouched.

/-/

**Well, after a month long **_**hyttetur **_**(cabin trip) I'm back! I would have posted before I left, but… somehow my chapter outlines got deleted, so I was too frustrated to start from scratch all over again. Oh well, the new idea ended up better than the original :). Guess there's a silver lining to everything. Make sure to review!**


	3. The Third Time

The Third Time

"Julie Cassidy, went to a field behind a tree…"

Barrel perched in the windowsill of an abandoned building. Right at the outskirts of town, he had the perfect view to the surrounding field—or, what _used_ to be a field. Over the years, the grass and bushes had dried up, leaving a vast expanse of dirt, paper-dry clumps of dead grass, and a withered, barren apple tree.

What he had noticed weeks ago, though, was that not _all _the grass was dead.

While patrolling the Southern edge of town, he had glanced over to the tree –he had a special fondness for that one ever since Lockstock had pointed it out and said he used to climb it as a boy—and saw a faint patch of _green_ around its base.

No one would think of wasting precious water on some stupid crabgrass, and there was only one other reason Barrel could think of that would explain that patch of life.

Someone was itching to go to Urinetown.

After several stakeouts, the cop finally caught the perpetrator—none other than Julie Cassidy, the town sweetheart. Barrel was going to enjoy sending her off. Teach the priss to turn her nose up at him…

"Saw there was no one there to see her pee…"

There she was, or at least, her upper half, as the bottom half was busy squatting behind that ugly tree. Around Julie's ankles Barrel could see her knickers—lacy things that would have been common enough before the drought. In these times, such luxury just seemed silly. Stealthfully, Barrel clicked off his pistol's safety and dismounted the windowsill. His footsteps on gravel, then the crunch of dead grass went unheard under the soft 'tiss' of Julie's business. Only a few more steps…

"But _me!_"

With a roar of triumph, Barrel launched himself around the tree. There, plain for his eyes to see, was little 'prim and proper' Julie, pants 'round her ankles for the world to see.

"Officer Barrel! I-" she tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. "I-I-"

"Don't worry, _Miss. Cassidy_, where you're going, you won't have much of a need for explanations. There isn't much need for any sort of words down in Urinetown!"

Her eyes widened, face paling almost immediately. Before Barrel could condemn her further, she collapsed, falling to her side in a dead faint.

Her pants were still around her ankles.

Barrel took great care to fasten her trousers up with a belt before carrying her over to the town. Julie Cassidy was a criminal, but everyone deserved a little dignity before their final trip to Urinetown. It wasn't until she had been rallied off to Juvland and Nelson, the two rookie cops, that he was even able to share his accomplishment with Lockstock.

The chief cop sat in a cramped office doing paperwork- courtesy of the chief superintendant and Mr. Cladwell. Barrel stood outside for a few minutes- give or take half an hour- summoning his courage before he finally gathered the bravado to knock.

Lockstock looked up in surprise, but beamed when he saw who was there. "Ah, Officer Barrel! It's been a while. Haven't seen you since… the Krowinsky kid?"

"Browning case, sir." Barrel corrected him. _Thirteen days ago. Far too long_.

"Whatever you say. I saw the other men making quite a fuss outside. I take it someone was caught…publicly urinating?"

"Julie Cassidy, sir. I caught her." Barrel quickly filled him in, face flushing in pride. "Serves her right, too, with all the years there's been gossip about her…"

"My word," Lockstock chuckled, thumbing through papers, "you've got some grudge on her. Did she blow off your love confessions too many times?" He waited for an answer. There was only silence.

Concerned, Lockstock looked up at the man in front of him. Instead of an amused expression, Barrel looked as if he had been punched in the gut- like someone had come too close to the truth. "Officer Barrel?"

"I caught her because I wanted to impress you!" Barrel exclaimed, an outburst of breath. "I- I mean, you always try to earn the attention of the person you love, right?"

His eyes squeezed closed, Barrel waited for the reaction.

"That's right, and I have to say, I _love_ the good officer you're becoming!"

Barrel's eyes opened, blue meeting oblivious brown. Lockstock was already back to his paperwork, confession nose-dived right over his head. "Is there anything else, Barrel?"

"Um…no, sir. Thanks for listening, sir."

No response granted, Barrel showed himself out of the office, barely making it out of the room before collapsing against the wall. _Next time_. Next time he wouldn't force the confession.

Next time, Lockstock would understand.

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**Yes! Back to the old grind! I hate coming up with last names, so I either use the last names of my friends, or look on Wikipedia for nationality surnames. So much fun… **

**Remember, if you liked the chapter/story, let me know why! If you didn't, let me know why! Review = Respect!**


	4. The Fourth Time

The Fourth Time

"-and that's why you always keep your gun loaded."

Lockstock ended his speech to the slow clapping of bored cops. Like it or not, they were required to listen to his speeches weekly, touching whatever topics he found pertinent for them to hear. The only enjoyment some of the younger officer's got was watching Barrel gaze up at his idol from the front row. If only Lockstock knew those weren't notes his protégé was taking…and if he didn't notice that Barrel always took a long trip to the Police Station's amenity after each lecture…well, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"Seriously, this is total bull!" The most rookie of all the cops, Omar, shook his head as most of the others filed out. Williamson and Nelson nodded. Omar was an innocent kid- didn't even know the truth about Urinetown yet- but even he shared the distaste for gun safety. "What's the worst that's going to happen?" he unholstered his gun and pointed it to his side. "I'll _forget_ I've got live ammo in here and _fire_?"

He pulled the trigger.

_BAM!_

A faint wisp of smoke rose from the old barrel up to his disbelieving face. Nelson and Williamson stared at him incredulously. Behind them, someone moaned.

Check that- _Lockstock_ moaned. The three turned to see him, just in time for him to collapse against the chalkboard.

"Sir?"

Lockstock didn't answer- instead he slumped to the ground, his head leaving a trail of blood against the wall. The three officers looked between themselves, none wanting to be the first to move and break the spell upon them. Then the moment may crash, and they'd realize this was _real_.

"Hey guys, I noticed you were chatty in the back there. You missed some great stuff Lockstock said. I think he's the greatest thing to- _holy shit!"_

Barrel had returned to the room after a (shorter than normal) visit to the amenity, just in time to see the horrific sight in front of him. The three cops began babbling, all trying to put together the events for him, when a sudden stoicism took charge of the normally strange officer.

"Williamson, fetch Doc McCoy, there should be a bicycle in back. Nelson, get the first aid kit from the front in the meantime. Omar…start filling out the proper paperwork. It should be form F-58. I'll tend to Lockstock."

The three officers didn't waste a minute in responding. They were gone within seconds, none wanting to be the last at the scene of disaster. Barrel was quick to make his way next to Lockstock, crouching beside his huddled form.

"Hey there, sir," he tried not to let his voice betray how nerve-wracked he truly was. "You got scraped up, I see."

Beneath him, Lockstock remained in a fetal position. If he heard, he gave no response.

"Sir?" Barrel's hand began stroking his hair back, taking care not to run his palm over the gash. "Sir, can you hear me?"

Still nothing. Lockstock's eyes were frozen open, locked in a state of shock.

"Officer Lockstock, are you…" _dead_? Barrel didn't want to ask a question he was afraid to hear the answer to. "You can't. You just can't," a prickling feeling started growing in his eyes, but Barrel didn't allow himself to cry. "You can't die. I still have to tell you…I love you!"

Lockstock blinked.

Barrel gave a sharp yelp of surprise but- there it was again!- that same motion. Lockstock's eyes closed, then opened. Then his mouth opened, and…

"That was a close shot," the Officer wheezed, forcing himself into a sitting position. "Got a handkerchief, Barrel?"

Barrel could only make out a stunned shake of his head before grabbing a napkin from his pocket. "Will this do?"

"Just fine!" Lockstock took it then, enthusiastically mopping the blood coming from his head. Before anything stranger happened, Barrel decided to address the strange issue at hand.

"Officer Lockstock, didn't you just…die?"

"I just got stunned-shock- I don't know," Lockstock continued to pat at his head, though no more blood appeared on the napkin. "I just reminded me of the dark days."

"Before Mr. Cladwell took over?"

"Yeah, I was on the force back then, too."

"Wow sir, I…didn't know." And Barrel didn't. Sure he had been part of the town too- right on the border of manhood, but he contracted an illness early into the dark days. He was lucky to be alive at all, but he had nearly no memory of those horrible times, lost in the nausea and plague that had taken most of his friends.

"Well now you do. The biggest difference between now and then, though…" he trailed off in thought.

"Yes, sir?"

"I didn't have anyone care about me then, like you did just now." He reached over and patted Barrel's arm hesitantly. "I didn't have a friend to care about my life."

"A friend…" Barrel mouthed the words, but a steely acceptance came over him. "Sir, I don't just think of you as a friend."

"No?"

"No sir, I…" he paused, seemed to think better of something, then continued. "I admire you, sir. You're the best example of a man I've ever met, and I think it's a real honor to work with you."

A tender smile crossed Lockstock's face. "And it's an honor to be with you as well."

The two just stood there then, waiting for Doc McCoy to show up so they could tell him everything was fine.

Because for the first time in a long while, everything _was_.

/-/

**Oh, Barrel's so **_**cute**_**! It was hard to make him creepy here, but at least we know he has a heart :) . I'll be wrapping up with this story soon- only the fifth time, 'plus one more'. Let me know what you think, and make it a great day or not (the choice is yours)!**


	5. The Fifth Time

**Shorter than normal, but that's really because I'm trying to wrap this up so I can work on my Slenderman-centric fic: 'Being'. One last confession, then it's curtains! As always, reviews=love!**

**/-/**

The Fifth Time

Little Sally is spying on Barrel.

She obviously doesn't think Barrel knows this, based off the amount of care she's taking to keep herself hidden. Unfortunately for her, Barrel's been paying attention for the past half an hour, and he's getting annoyed.

"Hey, Lockstock?" He calls the attention of the officer with him. Lockstock draws his attention from Jenny MacEntier (with obvious difficulty) and raises his eyebrow at his partner.

"What's suspicious now?"

"Nothing suspicious, just…funny," he raises his hand and discretely points at Little Sally, who pretends to be a customer window shopping…at an abandoned business. "She looks like she's in training to be a spy."

"Funny," Lockstock agrees with some difficulty. He'd much rather be looking at a _different_ 'little lady.' "She's a cute kid. Can't seem to stop asking me questions, though."

"What's wrong with that?" Barrel asks.

"One of these days she's going to ask about Urinetown. I heard her asking Bobby Strong about it a few days ago.

"What's the big deal?" Barrel shrugged. "She likes to know the answers. She might make a good cop one day." He could definitely see Little Sally's ear perk up at that.

"You might be right about that," Lockstock agreed. "Heck, she could be _your_ partner one day when I'm gone."

Little Sally didn't have to worry about reacting to that. Barrel was taking care of that for her.

"You wouldn't do that!" His voice raised to a yell. "You're too important to me- the _station_- to die!"

Lockstock chuckled. "I don't know about that, but I appreciate the thought." He turned his head to fine Jenny again, but quickly resumed his attention back to Barrel. "Why's Little Sally following us, anyway?"

"Who knows. Does she think I'm going to slip up and say that 'I love you'?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Barrel's face was covered in a ferocious blush. He spun around to look at Little Sally, see if she heard.

Judging by her slack jaw and raised eyebrows, he would suppose so.

He looked back at Lockstock, ready to explain his lack of forethought in his confession. To his surprise, Lockstock just chuckled.

"That's be rich. I'd actually love to see her reaction if you said something like that. Wait five minutes _then_ say it?"

"Um…never mind. Just joking," Barrel shook his head. Lockstock _still _didn't get it.

But if Little Sally's hasty departure was anything to go by, a good number of the townsfolk were going to be 'getting it' _very_ soon.


	6. The Last Time

**Well, as short and silly as the last chapter was, this was more poignant to write. Enjoy the last instillation! As a side note, I'd like to dedicate this chapter (well, the whole story actually) to a very special Nelson in my life. Here's to you, luv!**

**/-/**

And Once More…

Damn the townspeople. Damn that Bobby Strong. Damn Hope Cladwell. Damn everything for spiraling out of control, leading to this moment.

Nothing had gone according to plan, Barrel lamented, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the dread in his stomach that something else horrible was going to happen.

"An absolute maze, _that's_ what the sewer system is!" Barrel exclaimed to Lockstock, the two emerging from the underbelly of the city. Lockstock just shook his head.

"I'm going back down again, take another look. You stay here to guard the streets."

He looked off into the distance, not able to see how Barrel stared longingly at him. He was so _brave_…so far above Barrel that is almost hurt. Lockstock took a step forward, but before he could leave, Barrel burst out a question he'd been wanting ask for a long time.

"I've been meaning to ask you Mr. Lockstock…" he swallowed his fear as Lockstock turned back to him. "Do you ever have any…_doubts_ about what we've been doing? I mean, the killings and all," he clarified.

Lockstock thought for a moment, biting his lip before responding. "It may surprise you to find out that sometimes I do," he admitted. "But the health and security of these people is my primary concern."

Barrel opened his mouth to respond that _no!_- doubt didn't make a man weak- but Lockstock continued.

"I love the people of this community very much, Mr. Barrel, and Mr. Cladwell's plan may very well be their only chance."

He finished with a smile, and for once, Barrel realized that Lockstock wasn't actually happy. It was a sad smile, a smile of bitter acceptance, one of a man who's had to take the necessary evil and knew he'd be haunted by it.

He wondered how many times Lockstock had smiled like this before and he'd never noticed.

"And I…" he gulped. His chest was pounding, blood rushing to his head, knees knocking. He was terrified. He was consumed by admiration. He was in _love_, and he knew he couldn't wait any more. "And I love _you!_" he exclaimed. Lockstock froze. Oh well, best to charge ahead. "_Very _much."

Lockstock cocked his head, his face masking any reaction. "Er…well…I see…" the corner of his mouth twitched up. Was it a real smile? Or an unconscious reaction? Maybe it was the conviction in Barrel's voice, or the fact it was his _sixth_ time saying it, but for one reason or another, something clicked this time around. Lockstock _got_ it.

"I see." He took a step forward, brought his leg back. He cast a quick look back to Barrel, still looking expectantly. "Thank you for… bringing this to my attention."

Without another word, he left.

If Barrel had been feeling pessimistic, he might have said Lockstock looked like he was _running_. But he had adrenaline on his side, as well as the thrill of a confession. It was the last confession, and Lockstock had _gotten it_.

"Well…that went pretty well…" he murmured, gaze rising up to the rooftops. Who knew? Maybe after this chaotic night was over they'd be able to hang out at the station and chat. Maybe Lockstock would feel the same way, even if it was a while. Maybe they'd end up at one of their places, and he could show Lockstock how long and hard he's _needed _him…

"You who fly the blimp of evil…"

He took a dazed step forward. The world was full of possibilities now. He didn't even hear the strange words spoken by people sneaking closer.

"Shun upheaval in the air…"

Yes, maybe this was for the best. Lockstock probably needed some time to think about the sudden confession.

"Then ask why the ride gets charry…"

There wasn't any need for the dread he felt earlier! Everything was great- no- more than great! Everything was _perfect_…

"Now you're sorry!"

There was a sudden slam on his back, and Barrel fell to his hands and knees. The pavement was pebbly, and the little rocks were biting his palms, and hard boots were kicking into his sides…

He just managed to bat away the legs to stand, never once getting a clear look at his attackers. He worked to regain his balance, but just as he raised his head, he met cold eyes. _Deadly_ eyes.

_You're not allowed to assault officers of the law!_

He opened his mouth to protest, when out came a soft groan. _That's strange. He hadn't meant to make that noise_. He looked down. _What was that sticking out of his chest?_ He looked back up. The whole world was spinning, tipping, falling.

He didn't even make it to the ground.

/-/

_That was…unexpected_.

Lockstock tried not to let his thoughts wander as he stumbled through the sewer tunnels, but his efforts were to no avail. Barrel's confession had rendered him…speechless, a rare condition for him.

_I usually have all the answers, especially if someone was to ask Little Sally_.

But in this case, not having all the answers was…pretty nice.

_I don't have to anticipate how things should go…or need to go, according to some plan by Mr. Cladwell. I could…relax with Barrel. _

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

_He's already the only officer I trust. I'd take a beat with him any day. And he's told me how much he admires me…if only he knew how much I value his dedication, he'd blush for a week._

It was decided.

_This should be…interesting. A little unorthodox, perhaps, but then again, normal went down the drain along with the rest of the water twenty years ago. Maybe Barrel and I can just start by staying late at the station, chatting and shooting up whatever crap heads our way. Maybe we'd really end up fitting each other. We could end up at my place; see how to take it from there…_

Lockstock smiled, a real one this time at the possibilities he could imagine. He couldn't wait to meet up again with Barrel.

/-/

**Oh my gosh, I just got teary-eyed. Darn you, Lockstock, for realizing too late! I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it! Since I'm going out with a bang on this story, please make the last chapter the best in terms of response, and please review! Over 300 views, and only 2 reviews? I'd really appreciate it.**

**Ta Vaere, **

**HF**


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